


One per carrot stick

by Spiria



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Zexal
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 01:43:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6175285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spiria/pseuds/Spiria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>IV wants something, but Ryoga is not in the mood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One per carrot stick

**Author's Note:**

> For Dey and Qu! I'm no good at writing explicit shippy content, so this is my attempt at something vaguely like it. Poor Ryoga can't do PDA.

“What, you’re looking for compensation? Fine. Then I’ll clear that side for you,” says IV, pointing at the indicated area. “That should be good, right?”

“I’m not giving that to you as _payment_!” snarls Ryoga, not with malice.

“Think of it as a favor. At the rate you’re going, we’re never leaving this place. And we don’t have the luxury of time for you to make your decision. So? What’s it going to be?” When Ryoga says nothing, IV continues while gesturing with his chopsticks, “You know, Durbe was gracious enough to take your sister out for shopping. They should be coming back any minute now.”

Ryoga doesn’t look at IV, busy he is staring down a lettuce. “I can always throw them.”

“Rio will know,” says IV.

“And she won’t if _you_ do it?”

IV shrugs. “I’m not ‘throwing’ them. Unlike you, I like vegetables. Consider it your lucky day – how often do you get this offer?”

“No.”

“Ryoga, I’m not staying here all day with you, and we both know Rio’s not going to let you leave until you finish your plate. We’ve been sitting for over two hours.” IV clicks his tongue. “Killing time in a restaurant is rude, you know.”

“Then go and leave me alone already!” snaps Ryoga, curling his left hand into a fist that rests atop the table.

“You don’t have that authority: Rio invited me.”

“Don’t worry. I’m her older brother. You can go.”

“All right. If you want me to go so badly, give me what I asked for earlier.” IV leans back against his seat and crosses his arms over his chest, still gripping the chopsticks.

“You’re still – “ Ryoga scowls and tightens his grip on his chopsticks. “That’s not something you _ask_ for.”

“With you, who knows? It all depends on your mood. You didn’t nearly take this long to fold last time.” IV inclines his head to the side, gauging Ryoga’s reaction after a thoughtful pause. “It’s not because we’re in public, is it?”

Pointedly, Ryoga turns back to his plate. He pushes the assortment of vegetables around, mindful not to mix it with the leftover sauce from the entrée. “You’re too nosy.”

IV hums, looks over his shoulder at the restaurant entrance, and then slides across the seat to Ryoga’s side. Leaning toward the plate of vegetables, he shifts his weight so that his face is close to Ryoga’s, their noses almost touching. “Like this?” he asks, all the while picking up and eating a carrot.

With a grunt, Ryoga shoves IV’s face away. “You know what I mean. Quit being so needy and go home if you’re tired of sticking around.”

“Oh? You want me to wait for you at your house?”

“That’s _not_ what I – “

“Ah, it looks like Rio and Durbe are back,” says IV, starting to slide back to his original seat, though not before he grabs another carrot stick to take a sizable bite out of. There’s a glint in his eyes as he raises what’s left of the carrot to Ryoga. “I had two. You owe me that much.”

“I don’t owe you anything,” huffs Ryoga, setting his chopsticks down as Rio and Durbe come into view.

“Dutch is fine. One for each cheek. How about it?” says IV, not meeting Rio’s inquisitive gaze. “Don’t look so cross, Ryoga. I’ll collect later when you’re in the mood.”

Then IV gives Rio and Durbe his farewells, and summarily excuses himself from the restaurant. Turning back to Ryoga and his plate, Rio sighs.

“You didn’t have a single one, did you?” she asks.

“ . . . You’re wrong. There’s two less,” says Ryoga.

“Well, I suppose it’s better than nothing. All right, that’ll do. I think you’ve been here long enough, and we’d best be going home before it gets dark.”

The bill paid and all shopping bags accounted for, the trio leave the restaurant and plate of unfinished vegetables. On the way, Ryoga lags behind to match Durbe’s pace, then leans in to whisper, “Why’s she in such a hurry?”

“We ran into Vector at the mall,” says Durbe. “Although I’m not entirely sure what happened . . . ”

Nodding, Ryoga straightens just as Rio turns around to check on them. His thoughts drift back to IV, and tension drains from his shoulders when they arrive at their doorstep and find it empty. His mood is not right today.

But perhaps it will be tomorrow.


End file.
